Psychic's Eye
by ArizonaCriesOut
Summary: When a teenage psychic from London is Shawn's latest assignment, she seems like the real deal. Only thing is, Shawn doesn't believe in psychics. Will his certainty be shaken when this girl is better than Shawn? Shules, Mr. Yin spoilers c:
1. Big Trouble in Little China

**DISCLAIMER: I do not, unfortunately, own any of the characters or anything pertaining to the original Psych. I do, however, own Alexandra Ramsden.  
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As Shawn came waltzing into the police station, he noticed a girl sitting on the bench across from the front desk, looking apparently at ease. _What kid looks at ease in a police station?_ he wondered as he took in her jeans, Princeton t-shirt, and bright blue Converse. Her hair was wavy, light brown with bold blond highlights and, as she paused momentarily from her sketches to glance around, her eyes were a striking blue that slowly faded into a light green around the pupil. She looked really familiar, and Shawn, normally the one with hyper observance, couldn't for the life of him remember where he knew her from. She caught his eye and smirked, then immediately went back to drawing some sort of architecturally advanced house. Shawn, shocked that a girl of about sixteen had blown him off like that, when most girls that age knew him by face and name, backed all the way up to Detective Juliet O'Hara's desk, watching the girl all the way.

"Hey, Jules, what's the haps?" he inquired of the pretty blond detective doing paperwork before him.

"Oh, hi Shawn," Juliet said, barely glancing up from her stack of papers. "I don't have time for your banter, however witty, today. We've had a rash of supposed 11-44's ever since Michael Jackson died; all the notes claim they want to be reunited with the King of Pop. It's a mess, I have a lot of paperwork to do, and the Chief wants you in her office, now."

"Okay, you win, but first, who's that girl sitting over there?" Shawn asked, pointing over his left shoulder.

Juliet peered around him. "Hmm, not a clue. She came in about an hour ago, sat down at the bench, and hasn't looked up since. Not even when they brought the convict that held up the Mobil Station on Las Palmas, and that got attention from everyone." She paused and stared past Shawn once more, her eyebrows raised. Shawn turned and saw Carlton Lassiter, head detective of the SPBD, walking towards him.

"Lassiterio!" Shawn exclaimed. He observed with a keen eye the detective's parking stub from the Santa Barbara Gun Expo, and the tiniest spot of a mango smoothie below his second button. "The spirits tell me you are late this morning because… you registered a new gun! Also, the spirits want me to tell you that they are surprised you like mango, they always thought you more of a kiwi man."

"Spencer, I don't know or care why you know about why I was late, and… they were out of kiwi. Just get into the Chief's office, I'm sure you have had time to annoy pretty much everyone here," Lassiter glared down at Shawn. Lassiter's height had always seemed like an advantage to himself, especially when intimidating criminals, but now, next to Shawn, he just felt lanky and awkward.

Shawn rolled his eyes. "Just waiting for Gus. We are partners, you know, and I like to wait for my partner before taking on a case. I am a caring person," Shawn added as an afterthought as a pretty black haired woman passed by. She smiled at him, as if to take in the flirting gesture.

"Hey Shawn, you ready?" Burton Guster, Shawn's partner in crime-solving, was waiting outside the Chief's doors, putting away his work phone. In regards to the phone, he was annoyed with Shawn for using all of his work minutes to phone into for some radio contest.

"Yeah buddy, let's go. Bye Juliet," Shawn winked at O'Hara as he walked away. All Juliet could do was chuckle and go back to her mountainous pile of work.

Shawn ran into Chief Karen Vick's office, stopped suddenly, and flopped down into one of the chairs in front of the desk. Chief Vick raised her eyebrows at Shawn and shook her head as Gus sat in the other chair. Their eyes met and the Chief understood; Shawn was hyper today.

"Mr. Spencer, Mr. Guster, thank you for rearranging your busy schedules to come in to speak with me this morning."

"Oh, it's no problem Chief, all I was going to do was play Mario Kart, and Gus was going to pretend to finish his route, all the while avoiding me," As Shawn recited their plans for the day, Gus glared at him.

"That's not funny Shawn. Chief, I did in fact need to finish my route; I don't want you to think-"

"Boys, I honestly do not care what you were going to do today, because now you are doing something different. Alexandra!"

Shawn whirled around to see the girl who had so unkindly smirked at him unfold her legs and look up at the sound of her name. The Chief gestured for her to come into her office, and Alexandra complied, all the while looking at Shawn intensely. She stood between the two men, and rested a small hand on her hip.

"Mr. Spencer, this is Alexandra Ramsden. She is a high school student who-"

"Excuse me Chief, but the spirits wanted me to know that Alexandra… wants to be an architect!" Shawn proclaimed, doing the classic hand-to-head motion he had become so famous for. Alexandra stared down at him in disbelief.

"That's so right!" the blue-eyed teen exclaimed. The British accent took both Shawn and Gus by surprise. "And you must be Mr. Spencer, or Shawn. I am so sorry that your parents got divorced. You were only, 15, right?" Shawn's eyes widened.

"Mr. Spencer, you are to take on Alexandra as your psychic apprentice. Coach her, sharpen her skills. She will be with the both of you for about a month, then she returns to London to contemplate moving here permanently. Consider this an official police assignment. You will, of course be hired for cases along with this responsibility. Any questions?"


	2. Getting to Know You

"No Chief, I think we're good on the question front for now," Shawn stated, while Gus continued to stare, open-mouthed, at the girl, now to be called Alexandra, beside him.

Outside the chief's office, Lassiter looked up from his paperwork to see Spencer jump out of his chair, give the teenage girl a high-five, and sail out the door. Guster got up, shaking his head, and shook the chief's hand. Lassiter stood up from his desk and strode over to where Spencer stood. Shawn was expected the stern detective to be nosy about his new assignment, and planned to keep it completely secret. See how the head detective liked it for a change.

"Hey Lassy, can't talk now, got to go!" And with that, he walked out of the station. Alex came out of the chief's office, laughing at something Gus had just said. She was quite confident that Shawn was a fake psychic, just as fake as she was. It made her happy to find someone that was willing to fool the entire police department to help people. That's all she wanted to do, solve crimes and help people. But she didn't want all the long hours of being a real police officer, although taking the detective's exam when she got here and getting a perfect score was pretty cool. When she heard about Shawn Spencer, she was immediately interested in what he did. Upon further research, she decided that this would be the position from her, and proceeded to hop on the first plane to Santa Barbara and contact the Chief of Police. Karen Vick liked her confidence and her story and let her work with her lead psychic. It was a dream come true for Alex. Her and Gus followed Shawn out of the police station and got into the blue Echo.

Shawn wanted to get to know Alex better, see if she was really what she seemed. He was pretty sure that she was faking it, as he had been for the last four and a half years. He twisted around in the front passenger seat to face Alex.

"So, Alex, how long have you known that you were psychic?"

"Oh, since I was fourteen, so fairly recently. What about you Shawn? Was it before or after you had lice when you were, oh say, twelve?"

Shawn was taken aback. How would she know that he had lice when he was twelve?

"Hey, now, don't be all MaryKate/Ashley Olsen from Full House."

"Wow, really?" Gus put his palm to his forehead. "That's not 80's AT ALL."

"Late 80's, early 90's, what difference does it make? It's all ABC," Shawn smirked at the back of Gus' chocolaty brown head. They had by now pulled up to the beachfront Psych office, the window gleaming in the sun. Alex let the rays hit her face for a second before she switched back into working mode.

"So Shawn, I would love to see your process. How do you start?"

"Well, my process doesn't normally start until we get a case from the Chief. Then I solve it up nice, and we're back here in time for Chuck. Gus has a thing for Yvonne Strahovski," Shawn smiled as Gus elbowed him in the ribs. Suddenly Shawn's iPhone started singing, and as he fumbled through his pockets to grab it, Alex asked Gus about his other job in pharmaceuticals. Shawn was thoroughly impressed with her knowledge of his job. He saw that it was Jules calling, and without hesitation, picked it up.

"Miss me already? You know I would invite you over, but Gus is upset that Ben kicked all of the newspaper out of his cage, and it's a little dangerous here right now. More _Big_ than _Risky Business_ I must say though."

"That's actually funny Shawn. No, as much as I missed you," she started, voice dripping with sarcasm, "we have a possible suicide we want you to check out. The Chief wants you to bring Alex, whoever that is. I'm a little curious myself."

"Don't worry about it Jules. We'll be there faster than you can list the people who _don't _have a grudge against Lassy." He put his phone back into his pocket and got Alex's attention. "Ready to see myself in action?"


	3. Outdone

Shawn got a good look at the outside of the crime scene as Gus pulled up to the Blue Sands Motel on South Milpas Street. The front was very common, nothing really screamed eerie. The three stepped out of the car, and were immediately greeted by Officer Buzz McNab, an enthusiastic young cop known for coming out with bursts of knowledge at any given time. _He would make an awesome detective, if only he was a little better at deductive reasoning_, thought Shawn as he strutted through the open door to the motel. He took in the crime scene around him, as the hustle and bustle of procedural happenings took place around him. The ID card the forensics guy was holding read Pat Murphy. He took in the knife wound in his heart, the dead man's arm lying across his own chest. It looked like a suicide to him, he was 95% sure. _Well, they can't all be interesting homicides,_ he concluded. He observed Alex walking around the body as well, gazing intently at the knife wound. _She's not going to find anything,_ he thought to himself. After about ten minutes of scrutinizing, both psychics stood up at the same time.

"Wait! I'm getting something," Shawn closed his eyes and raised his arms in surrender. "I'm getting a name. Love… love is a battlefield! And, oh Brittany you were too young to goooo!!!"

"The victim's name is Pat Murphy!" Juliet, who was standing nearby, exclaimed. Shawn smiled at her and raised his hand to his head once again.

"Unfortunately, the spirits also tell me that poor Mr. Murphy did indeed, take his own life. He is at peace now," Shawn collapsed, mock exhausted, into a chair. As much as he hated to admit it, it was fun showing off in front of Alex. She looked impressed with his antics. But as Shawn took a deep sigh of relief, Alex bent down and took one last look at the body. She rose and took a deep breath.

"As the supposed trainee psychic on this case, I know my visions won't be taken quite as seriously as Mr. Spencer's, but I have a different angle on this. The spirits alerted me to the way the body fell. They say," Alex concentrated on the position of the knife. "They say that Mr. Murphy was standing up when he stabbed, or was stabbed. If he had killed himself while he was standing, the knife would have fallen out of his hand and landed…" she walked over near the front desk. "Here. There's no way he could have killed himself. The spirits are sure of it." She folded her arms in resignation.

Lassiter surveyed the area, keeping in mind what Alex had stated. He conversed with Juliet for a moment, and then turned to face Shawn, Gus, and Alex.

"Spencer, looks like YOU dropped the ball. What Alex said makes perfect sense. We are declaring this a homicide investigation." Lassiter looked over at Shawn, who looked downcast. "What's the matter Spencer, jealous?"

"Did you check the security cameras from the night Murphy was murdered?" Shawn faintly heard Alex ask as he stared down at the floor. He had never been outdone, except by Lindsey Leikin two years ago, and she had turned out to be not only a fraud, but a criminal as well. At this point, he didn't see any way Alex could have known that he was murdered other than, as much as he hated to say it, there was a possibility that she was psychic. Gus would tell him that there were such things as psychics, but Shawn wasn't convinced. He snapped out of his reverie as he heard Alex exclaim;

"This man was a sailor, was he not? Also, a native Irishman, not some child or grandchild of an immigrant?"

"That's right," Jules nodded. "He was on leave apparently, worked on a ship coming from Kilkee, Ireland. That's amazing for a sixteen year old!"

Shawn felt himself getting just a tiny bit jealous. It was time to leave, and Alex needed to be dropped off at her hotel. She must have come from a wealthy family because she stayed at the Hotel Santa Barbara, an extremely nice hotel in the heart of Santa Barbara. When he and Gus returned to the Psych office, he was in a grumpy mood.

"Oh Shawn, will you get off your high horse and realize that this girl might actually be psychic?" Gus was sick of seeing Shawn beat down and decided to do something about it.

"Oh Gus, don't be silly, there's no such thing as psychics. I just need to figure out how she knew about the trajectory of the body! That's what's bothering me." It wasn't all that was bothering Shawn, but it fooled Gus, at least for a little while.

"Maybe you just need to brush up on you skills. You should go see your dad," Gus gestured with his half a sandwich.

"You're probably right. Maybe he can take a look at these crime scene photos and find something I missed to explain Alex's revelation." Shawn's relationship with his father had much improved ever since he had helped Shawn rescue Abigail from the pier. Before now, Shawn had always reluctantly gone to Henry Spencer for advice, but things were different now. They had an understanding between them, and ever since Abigail had broken up with him because of his job, Henry had supported his decision to stay with Psych. That meant more to Shawn than anything, and Henry became more than his stern cop father, and was now his friend. Shawn was actually looking forward to talking to his dad, because he always gave Shawn the push he needed to look closer at a case.


	4. Like Father, Like Son

****So guys, I know it's been forever since I updated, but with my term paper and ACT's (i know, being a junior sucks!) I just haven't had the time! So here it is, I would love love love if you could review. It would mean the world to me if you reviewed, it helps me write faster *wink wink* :)****

**P.S. I don't own Psych, although if Steve Franks reads this, hint hint!  
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"Dad!" Shawn shouted as he strolled in the door of his dad's beachfront bungalow. It looked plain from the outside, once referred to as the "Borington's House" by Nigel St. Nigel. The inside, however, was a completely different story. When Shawn's mother and father divorced, Henry decided to take a different route than Madeleine, décor-wise. Every inch of the walls were covered with some sort of fish paraphernalia, bringing Shawn back to the days when Henry used to drag his ass out of bed at 5:30 in the morning, always stating, "Shawn! This is when the fish are biting! Let's go!" After a while, Henry gave up on trying to get an always grumpy Shawn out of bed, and let "Princess", as was Shawn's nickname then, sleep in.

"Hey Shawn," Henry called out from the kitchen as Shawn tossed his keys on the coffee table. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, just thought I'd stop by, share my new pineapple banana bread recipe with you, you know. What do you think I'm here for?" Shawn rolled his eyes.

"What's the case, Shawn? And don't think I don't know that you just rolled your eyes at me, I can see through walls," Henry brandished his spatula at his son from the kitchen. Sometimes Shawn got on his nerves. It seemed like all Shawn ever wanted was his help on a case. He didn't mind usually, for Henry Spencer realized a long time ago that he had in fact retired too early, and hearing about what went on at the station was refreshing for him. Even if it was from the point of view of a snarky detective.

"Male, 32 years old, supposed suicide with a knife. I told the cops it was a suicide, because that's what I saw. But there's this sixteen year old "psychic" that the Chief wants me to "train", name's Alexandra Ramsden. She says it wasn't a suicide. Something about the way the body fell."

Henry stared intently at the photos. He noticed that although this new Alex character was right about the trajectory of the body, the line between homicide and suicide was so fine that he almost missed it. Henry turned to face Shawn.

"I see it. I thought I trained you better than this, Shawn. You're supposed to notice the little things! Look closer!"

Shawn furrowed his brow and focused his gaze on the knife wound and where the body fell. After about two minutes, he did see what his father and Alex had noticed before him. _Am I losing my touch?_ he thought to himself. Henry saw what his son was thinking, and immediately answered for him.

"You're not losing your edge, son," he said sharply. "You just need to relax. This new girl's got you all crazy, and you're not thinking straight. Why is she bothering you so much?" he asked, leaning in to Shawn.

"I don't know, but you're bothering me more than her when you lean in like that," Shawn raised his eyebrows and leaned away from his father. Sometimes Henry could be so awkward around his son, and Shawn believed it was because Henry was always walking the beat when Shawn was growing up. "You know, she's just, so young! I was never as good as her when I was her age!"

"Well, Shawn, maybe she's really psychic, like she claims. You never know," Henry chuckled.

"Now's not the time for jokes, dad," Shawn stood up to leave. "And like I told Gus, there's no such thing as psychics."

"You want to tell the police that, or should I?" Henry smirked as Shawn, obviously annoyed with his father, leaned in the doorway.

"Ha-ha, no, I just have to figure out how she's so good! What's her secret?" Shawn's phone rang from his pocket when he answered it, his chest tightening when he heard the Chief's voice.

"Mr. Spencer, we have a lead on the case. Come down to the marina, and bring Ms. Ramsden with you, if she's still up. I trust you have her phone number?"

"Of course, Chief," Shawn sighed. "We'll be there faster than you can say 'pineapple milkshake'." Shawn threw up his hands in frustration. "Goodbye Dad, hope you make some progress with your awkward class." He ran out the door and into the dusk. As Shawn reached his motorcycle across the street in the beach parking lot, he admired that nobody seemed to be on the beach this time of night. It was after the families had gone home, and before the nightly beach parties started. He stared so long and hard at the beach that he flashed back to when his mom, dad and he used to take walks at this time of day. Those were happy times, when his parents were content with each other, before the divorce. Slowly, his father and mother disappeared and were replaced by himself and Juliet.

Ever since Abigail broke up with Shawn, he was trying to stay objective, not get involved with anyone else for a while. But lately… he thought about her all the time, whether riding his bike or just hanging at the Psych office with Gus. Whenever he saw her coming toward her in the station, he felt a smile involuntary creep onto his face. But he knew it was no use. When Shawn decided to rescue Abigail, Juliet had taken the blow hard. She had hardened herself against Shawn, and he knew there was no quick fix for the pain she was feeling. It would take only time to heal the wounds he inflicted on Juliet, and it killed him that he couldn't do more than just wait.

Breaking out of his reverie, he swung his leg over his bike and sped off toward the Psych office, where he would pick up Gus and head over to Alex's hotel. Then it was off to the marina, where Shawn could only hope he could redeem himself.

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****So, getting a little Shulesy, huh? Comment, suggestions are ALWAYS welcome!!****


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